Christmas with Louise
As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over
his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa
to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must
be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids'
stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on
sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Now, they
don't sell those things at Walmart. I know, I checked. I had to go
to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in an X-rated
store, don't go. You'll only confuse and embarrass yourself. I was
there an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're
kidding me!" "Who would buy that?"
Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to
buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a
passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush
hour. Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many
different models.
The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for
'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call
Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise
came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in
during the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone. I
filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom.
I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk
on a nearby tray. I went home and giggled for a couple of hours.
The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been
to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but
had left the dog somewhat confused. She would bark, start to walk away,
then come back and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should
remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her
when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the
door. "What the hell is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll."
"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "And where
are her clothes?" Granny continued.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to
steer her into the dining room.
But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"
Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and
no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on
Granny! Hang on!"
My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight,
sidled up to me and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"
I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed
Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but
actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be
Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who
had died, who was dying and who should be killed, when suddenly
Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the
bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew
around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The
cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose and Grandpa
ran across the room, fell to his knees and began administering
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants and Granny
threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in
my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the
cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered
from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately,
thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect
health.
Louise has gone on to star in several bachelor party movies,
and makes periodic Christmas appearances.
I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the
house.

Christmas with Louise As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty. One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Now, they don't sell those things at Walmart. I know, I checked. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse and embarrass yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone. I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home and giggled for a couple of hours. The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog somewhat confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "And where are her clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny! Hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home. The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise has gone on to star in several bachelor party movies, and makes periodic Christmas appearances. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

ONIONS AND CHRISTMAS TREES:
A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there? The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they are like onions "Onions?" "Yes, you see them and they make you cry."
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said,
'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?" The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his 20s, his willy is like an oaktree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree". "A Christmas tree?" "Yes - dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration

ONIONS AND CHRISTMAS TREES: A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there? The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions "Onions?" "Yes, you see them and they make you cry." This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, 'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?" The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his 20s, his willy is like an oaktree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree". "A Christmas tree?" "Yes - dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration